Letters, love and loss
by E.R.H
Summary: Anthony on the front receives a letter from Edith. From then on it changes everything. A look at their relationship throughout the war and the letters that pass between them. "There's a war on. We don't have time for tea. If you want to go see her tell her and make sure it's the first thing you do when you get home."
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I wrote a fic like this but as a one shot. Thought I would try to turn it into a story._

_Anthony on the front receives a letter from Edith. From then on it changes everything. A look at their relationship throughout the war and the letters that pass between them._

_Thanks for reading!_

* * *

_December 1914_

He tried to stretch out but was constricted. Some what confused he tried to turn over in bed telling himself the thin fabric beneath him was mattress, _what he would give for a cup of tea_. He fought the sleep best he could trying to hold on to it for as long as he could. Feeling ever so cold he pulled the blanket up further but it was itchy and scratched his face, it certainly not his blanket. Feeling the ground shake beneath him he was thrown out of bed, cold dirt flicking on to his face. Gasping for breath and opening his eyes he felt he were waking from some nightmare. _But no this was his nightmare_. The sky was so clear and peaceful but it was broken by gunfire and shouting. He did not want to get up. He was scared and so very alone. He didn't really know anyone here and just wanted to go home, home was familiar, home was safe. Edith was at home. That poor girl. He wanted nothing more than to tell her he did want to marry her but he couldn't tell her,_ not now_. She wouldn't want him now he was so far from home. Taking a deep breath all thoughts of Edith were lost for a moment as he stood and grabbed his gun. He didn't want to fire it, not really. They were so young so innocent. Couldn't anybody see, _both sides were the same_? Young men shaking in their boots. Hearing the command for over the top he took a deep breath and started tp pray to a god he didn't really believe in. He stopped him self and prayed to Edith instead.

* * *

It was silent. The kind of silent that makes your ears hurt. She couldn't think straight. Four months she had not heard a word from him or about him since her father said he had gone to war. _Why would he go to war_? He always wanted to do the right thing but she was starting to doubt whether it was the right thing after all. She knew she probably shouldn't write to him, give her self false hope of any kind, nor him for that matter but _what else could she do_? So she took to her room to write to him. A small letter not much but it was a letter non the less. The letter spoke of so little she wondered if she should send it after and kept it on her desk. So unsure if she should bring it all back up the poor man was probably suffering enough without her sticking the knife in. It was almost midnight when she woke up again. No sleep for fear of missing news of him. Not that she would be told, she wouldn't be the first but she wouldn't want to be last to know. At that moment the wind outside grew too strong and the window burst open filling the room with cold air. She wrestled with the blankets trying to get out of bed, finally shutting the window she turned back to the room. Everything untouched apart from the letter that had blown on the floor. _Was that sign_? She thought picking it up in her shaking hands. She hoped he would see it spoke so much more than what it did. She hoped he would see she was trying to make it better, make it easier for him and so the next morning she posted it her self. She couldn't take it back now, it was done.

* * *

He was struggling to control the sleep that was threatening to close his heavy eyelids any moment. The cold making his bones ache, the dirt on his clothes and in his hair making him feel even worse. _How long had it been now, minutes, hours, days_? He had no idea and felt he was in a spinning world, one moving to fast. He needed something to ground him,_ someone_._ No_, he told him self, _he would not think of her again_. He did not deserve her pity nor did he want it. Pulling the blanket further round himself he realised it was no use and concluded that he would always be cold. In truth he had felt cold ever since that moment Mary had told him that Edith did not want to marry him. He stopped himself his thoughts racing. Edith had made it quite clear she did not like her sister so_ why would she tell her something so important_? Almost as if fate was intervening a young solider passed him tipping his hat before handing him his post. One letter, one letter that would change everything. He almost didn't believe it looking at the elegant hand writing on the front. She had written to him but _why_? Taking a moment to gather his thoughts he opened the letter and read it over and over unsure what to make of it all.

_Dearest Anthony,_

_I know it is the most irrelevant silly thing now but we never did get to talk that day at the garden party. I heard you were in France and I felt such a great need to write to you, I hope you do not mind overly._

_Papa says it is terrible in France right now and I do hope you keep yourself safe and well. When you return I was hoping you could write to me perhaps? I would like to talk to you very much as I feel there was so much left unsaid._

_Sending you all the hope and luck in the world yours,_

_Edith._

He took out a bit of paper straight away to reply but his pen faulted on the crumpled paper. _What would he say to her_? _That yes he would love to write to her or no now wasn't the right time_? He didn't know exactly when he was coming home and how long for. It was cruel to make her worry, to give her false hope. Sensing someone watching him he looked up at the young solider leaning against the trench swigging something out of a flask. He guessed it wasn't tea and was grateful when the young man handed it over to him for a sip. He definitely needed that for courage if he were to write this. Thanking him he heard him speak, softly at first his eyes scanning something behind his head.

"You struggling to write to your misses?"

"Well she's not really my misses at all."

"You wanna invite her for tea when you get back?"

"Very much so."

He was surprised when the man laughed shaking his head as he took another sip of the warm liquid shaking his boots together before finally meeting Anthony's eye. It almost unnerved him how haunted the young man looked, how damaged he looked. He was so very young he didn't deserve to know of these horrors, neither did he but at least he could handle it a bit better or that's what he liked to believe. He lent back against the hard wall some dirt falling on to the paper in front of him. Brushing it off he frowned at it. _What to say_? _To say anything at all_? Hearing the man speaking again he looked up at him.

"There's a war on. We don't have time for tea. If you want to go see her tell her and make sure it's the first thing you do when you get home."

He nodded slightly unsure if he should. It was not really the done thing to turn up with out an invitation. _For god sake_. He scolded him self as he began to write the sound of gun fire filling the air again. There wasn't time for an invitation, whoever this young man was he was right or slightly drunk he didn't really care for it and wrote out a hurried note. Posting it before going back to his station he took a moment to think it through. There was nothing he could do now it was posted, done. Whatever would come of it would come.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks for the review, favs and follows!_

_I got a bit confused remembering the time line of some things that happened in series 2. If I get it the wrong way round I'm sorry but it was such a confusing series!_

_Thanks for reading, hope you all like it._

* * *

_December 1914_

Edith sat miserably at the breakfast table with just her father for company, the rain pouring down the window. It had been two whole weeks and she had heard nothing. _Maybe sending that letter was in vain after all_._ Was she stupid for still holding on to that dream_? _Was she selfish_? Christmas coming up only made it worse. Half the men hadn't signed up yet and seeing every one of them made her heart jump thinking it could be him or thinking what he could be doing. _What they could be doing_. Every day she had checked the post before her father had come down to breakfast but this morning it had been late and her eyes kept glancing over the stack of letters next to her fathers newspaper. _Why couldn't he just sort through them_? If she asked if there was a letter for her they would ask who it was from. Not that they would be against it they just wouldn't understand._ No one ever understood her_. She looked up as her father slid a letter across the table, he did not recognise the handwriting but noted it was from the army. He had no idea who she was writing to, who was writing to her. He knew of no beau and Anthony was surely a long lost hope. She seemed to cheer up a bit and pleased he went back to his tea. She was a bit surprised, the letter was not like Anthony's normal letters she had received before the war. The paper was crumpled and dirty, the hand writing looked rushed. _Was he really alright_? Her heart sped up reading it hoping all her dreams would intact for a little longer, the letter was short, not even half of one side.

_Dear Edith,_

_I should be returning home around the 18th it's not for certain and I don't know how long I will be on leave for but I would very much like to see you. My train if I am correct should arrive in the morning and I will come to see you as soon as I can, please be expecting me._

_Yours, _

_Anthony._

_The 18th_. That was today. She glanced up at the clock, already 9:45. She looked down slightly horrified at what she was wearing. She had not bothered that morning to help Anna pick out an outfit. She could not let Anthony see her like this, if he was still coming. Of course he appearance didn't matter in the whole scheme of things but she at least wanted to look nice. He wanted to talk to her and it seemed important._ Had he changed his mind_? _Was he going to propose aga_in? She almost didn't hear her father talk and he had to repeat him self to get an answer. He was very worried about her, she had seemed ever so down and now she was in a state of panic. _Was it bad news_? _Had one of her friends died_? _Who were her friends_? He had no idea and watched her carefully as she raised her head looking at him hiding the letter under the table.

"Edith did you hear me?"

* * *

Anthony had thought of the moment he would see her again over and over for the past two weeks and he had planned for it to be such a lovely moment. In truth it had been the only thing keeping him going. The sun would be shining and he would greet her outside Downton and he would kiss her. Something he should have done so very long ago. Though he still let the doubts creep in. _Should he let her become an army sweetheart_? Always waiting for that envelope that broke the sad news of his death. _God how terrifying_. He realised very quickly after getting on the train that the heavy rain had been a sign that maybe he shouldn't be so froward. He felt his chest might explode seeing her for the first time, he had never missed someone so much in his life. However he soon found him self awkwardly sat in Lord Grantham's drawing room with Cora, Robert and Edith. The conversation was not as free following as he had hoped._ If only he could get Edith alone_. He glanced at her before taking his tea. She looked beautiful and he couldn't help but wonder how he had, had the strength to walk away just months earlier. She blushed trying hard not to look at him again. He looked so very dashing in his uniform and it made her so very proud. _Why did her family always have to ruin things_? Robert spoke not even realising how Anthony and Edith were feeling. Cora, however, had picked up on something but said nothing and let her husband speak.

"Matthew is going out very soon."

"I'll keep an eye out for him don't worry."

"Are you staying very long?"

Cora said before eyeing the suspiciously small gap between him and her daughter on the sofa they were sitting on. _She had said he was going to propose didn't she_? Maybe she had got it wrong. She looked at her sympathetically. Poor dear always getting things confused. Edith fought very, very hard not to roll her eyes. She wanted him alone so they could talk. That's all she wanted. They needed more than paper and words. They needed conversation, body language and tone of voice. She had missed him so much and wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug him but no she couldn't. She watched him carefully wondering what he had been through, what he had seen, if he really was as well as he looked. He was so close to her now and she had never felt more at home and safe in her life.

"Not long I'm afraid. I've been to check on the estate this morning. I'm off to London this afternoon."

"Well it's very kind of you to visit us."

"Thank you having me. I would have written ahead but these things are never preplanned. That reminds me I was going to suggest a book to Edith before I left. May I use your library Robert?"

Edith was pleased he was so very smart and came up with an excuse to be alone and as soon as the library door closed she relaxed but not enough to close the large space that was between them. It suddenly felt very cold and not at all like it had in the drawing room. _Had she gotten it wrong_? She wanted so much to ask him what it was like, how he was doing but she knew she mustn't these things were painful and he was home now. He wouldn't want to be reminded. In a way she was angry at him, leaving without a word, twice now. _Was she that bad_? This wasn't about her anymore and she spoke her voice shaking slightly just being able to meet his eye.

"You never did propose."

"I'm sorry for letting you think I would"

"Leaving the country, off to war without a word. Why? What did I do?"

He moved closer to her just watching her face turn to pain. He didn't know she had been so upset. _Did that mean Mary was lying_? That would mean everything. It was so confusing how to handle it all. Thoughts of the kiss he had imagined were driving him mad and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. He loved her so much but there was a war on. He wouldn't keep her waiting. She was young and attractive she would have so many opportunities. She couldn't wait around for him forever. He was about to speak and reach out for her hand when the door opened and Robert entered completely unaware what he had just interrupted.

"Honestly Edith you can't keep the poor man waiting. He has a train to catch."

That made reality crash back in and he didn't want to leave. Edith almost stopped time and made him feel safe. He couldn't go back. _Should he say he had a later train_? _Should he ask to stay_? Sighing slightly exhausted from it all he decided just to get his train. _What could he say to her now that would change all of this_? Robert said his goodbyes before leaving the couple alone in the hall. The rain had seemed a lot heavier than when he had arrived almost making it impossible to leave._ Maybe it wasn't there to confirm his doubts after all_. He grimly watched the scene placing his officer's cap on his head before turning to Edith. She was so very cold in the doorway but said nothing glad that they were finally alone. She wouldn't bring it up again not until they had more time to talk but she couldn't get the image out of her head. He had moved closer to her. He had wanted to be near her. _What was he going to say_? Feeling it grow more awkward she spoke.

"I can't believe you have to fight over Christmas."

"The war doesn't stop just because its Christmas Edith."

"I know I'm not stupid. I just worry about you."

She shot back venomously. Both looked away ashamed of them selves at not being able to have a conversation properly, to say their feelings. The time did not feel right. Anthony had gotten so used to talking like a solider he had forgotten how to be a gentlemen in that moment and Edith had gotten so used to being told off and spoken to like a child she had forgotten this was the man she was supposed to of married. Glancing over her shoulder at the large Christmas tree he smiled only slightly aware of all the things he were to miss while in France. Speaking again he looked at her face, her piercing eyes watching his. She was slightly scared. Neither had said a word in over minute. She had said it now. It was out there. The first proper declaration of what they were feeling. _What she was feeling_. _She worried about him_. It sounded so silly. None the less it was a start. A small step in many she hoped to take.

"You mustn't worry about me the war will be over by the new year."

_Who's being stupid now_. His thoughts mocking him only realising for the first time what he had gotten into and what he was losing by sticking with the war. She looked at him unconvinced and he knew she was smart, he shouldn't insult her intelligence. He wanted so much to be closer to her. He was so nervous, all the confidence of last thoughts on the front line disappearing. Edith looked up at him as he lent forward and she thought for a heart stopping moment he would kiss her but he just lingered there and she went against every fibre of her being not to pull him close to her. She had imagined this moment a thousand times, longed for it a million of times. She had never kissed anyone properly before and she wanted it to be him. No one had loved her enough to kiss her. No one had_ ever_ loved her._ Did he_? He was so close she could see the dirt that hadn't been washed away, the strain in his eyes. _How bad was it_? She couldn't let him go back there. He lent forward further and placed a soft tender kiss on her cheek slowly pulling away, her sweet perfume lingering. She closed her eyes just for a moment, a moment long enough to burn the memory in to her mind for ever. Opening her eyes she sighed, it was so lovely but heartbreaking. She wanted so much to talk, to tell him how she felt but she couldn't get the words out. They were strangling her. When he pulled away further she realised their hands had got caught up. She could hold on to him for a bit longer,_ couldn't she_? He tipped his hat towards her, his features lighting up in a weary smile as he slowly released his hand from hers._ Stop_. _Don't go_. But she couldn't say it nor could he say_ I don't want to go_. _Give me reason to stay_.

"Have a lovely Christmas Edith."

Then he was gone across the drive into the heavy rain before climbing to a waiting car. She waited as long as she could before letting the tears fall from her eyes._ If they loved each other so much why couldn't they just say so_? _Why did it have to be so fraught_? She went inside refusing to think of what he was going into. So she sat by the window watching the path, the path the post always took on it's way to teh Abbey. That's all she could do. _Wait for his next letter_.

* * *

Although the ceasefire was so very much needed and welcomed on such a religious and peaceful day, he was not in the mood at all for football. Not for fear for the enemy but for fear of his clumsy feet and _yes_ he would rather be in the warm, _not really any warmer then outside_, dug out now the officers weren't using it. Sat in a spare cot with a mug of whisky, a thoughtful present from Edith, he took out her most recent letter. Strange how words could give such comfort and warmth. He had never thought of her as the kind of woman she was coming across in her letters. He had never thought bad of her but this was just confirming what a lovely lady she was. He almost felt guilty for enjoying her letters so much, he could not love her completely until she could have him completely. It wouldn't be fair.

_Anthony,_

_I sent this letter as soon as I could to make sure you got it on Christmas day. I understand there are not many home comforts in France and I had no Idea what to send you. According to Thomas the footman whisky is greatly useful in the trenches though what for I have no Idea. I thought I'd send you a letter too as I couldn't bare the thought of you all alone on Christmas day._

_Do you think when your home I could come and visit you, if its not too forward? I feel there is much we need to talk about, still so much unsaid. It seems things have changed for both of us immensely. I feel confused about what's happened between us and now, now I need to know more than anything what it all means. Though of course I would prefer to talk about it in person and it really was lovely to see you on leave. Time is so very short and I feel it would be best spent with you._

_I do hope you're keeping yourself warm and in good spirits. Merry Christmas and god bless,_

_Edith._

Anthony heard the door open in the dug out and always on guard sat up quietly but quickly. His eyes still adjusting to almost dark, his hand on his gun when he saw a lone figure smoking a cigarette in the corner of the room before lounging in a chair. His new "_friend"_. The mans name he still did not know and felt strange about asking him. He sighed turning back to the letter trying to focus on where he had got up to. Hearing him speak he was slightly confused about why he was so interested in his life. He wouldn't complain, it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone to share thoughts with. He hadn't done that in a long time. He wanted to do that so much with Edith.

"Did you see her on leave?"

"I did."

"Did you kiss her?"

"I did."

"On the cheek doesn't count."

Anthony took a deep breath before meeting his hard gaze in the dark. He pulled the blanket further around him wondering how he had known. He wished it wasn't the blanket round him,_ he wished it was Edith_. He wished he was there with her. He wondered if she felt as alone as he did and regretted not sending her a letter to open today. He spoke slowly folding the letter up and placing it carefully inside his coat with the rest of Edith's letters. They almost had a calming effect on him and he didn't want to let that go just yet. He felt like they protected him. He could read them when the flame of hope had gone out and she would always relight it just enough and jut in time to save him.

"How do you know women so well?"

"I don't. I just know they liked to be shown they are loved, they like to be wanted. I'm guessing this girl of yours has never been kissed, not properly..."

"She isn't like that. We would never...not out of marriage."

"I'm not talking about sex Anthony. I'm talking about affection I bet she wanted to kiss you so badly."

"I couldn't just kiss her besides I don't want her to wait for me just for me to die."

He felt himself shiver the words now out in the open. He had avoided thinking about it all the time he was here. He refused to look at him as he started to write a letter to Edith. Making sure the paper wasn't crumpled and that his hand writing was neat took time and effort but he would want nothing less. _Had she really wanted to kiss him, like he wanted to kiss her_? What a mess he had made of it all. He thought his "_friend_" wasn't going to say anything else until he heard him talk quietly, though Anthony did not look up. He didn't want his face to betray him anymore.

"Who cares Anthony? In the end we all do. You're a long time dead."

His pen stopped on the page. _How did he know his name_? _How could he be so carefree when stepping out of that door would be a roll of the dice, a new shuffle of your cards by fate_? Anthony looked up at him feeling even colder as the lamp dimmed and flickered, the unusual sound of laughter being heard making him shiver again. Everybody thinks you can influence card games, everybody underestimates the power of the luck of the draw. In the end that's all it really is. _Luck_. Nothing less, nothing more. Deciding to follow his advice and lay all of his cards down he screwed up the carefully planned letter throwing it to the floor before he started writing again. He was going to play his hand once and for all and to hell with the consequences.


End file.
